


i wish you could have told us sooner

by Squiped_Mew



Series: The Tales of Team OMEN (in anachronic order) [1]
Category: RWBY
Genre: Abuse, Angst, I wrote this in like 30 minutes dont judge me, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Torture, Introspection, Memory Alteration, Memory Loss, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Oscar Pine Needs a Hug, Ozpin is gone, Pools of Grimm, Salem (RWBY) also sucks, Trauma, Unreliable Narrator, Why Did I Write This?, and therapy, he did the 'peace sign and vanish' meme, me: only one way to find out, me; i wonder what would happen if you drank the black stuff where the grimm come from, oh boy theres ansgt here, something, this idea has been rotting in my brain for like a year and im only now writing about it, villain AU, wow these tags are
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-18
Updated: 2020-09-18
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:01:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26527912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Squiped_Mew/pseuds/Squiped_Mew
Summary: Cold.Cold was how he felt most of the time nowadays.Nothing when he talks to people. Nothing when he’s out in the field, slicing through featureless people and staining his gloves redder than they already were. Nothing when he traces the scars on the back of his hand.There used to be a voice, he thinks, that resided in the back of his head, if he strains to remember through all the thick black fog in his head. The voice had a name, too.He didn’t care to remember, though.He remembered hating the voice.(OR: Oscar reflects on what he doesn't remember.)
Relationships: Emerald Sustrani & Oscar Pine, Mercury Black & Emerald Sustrai, Mercury Black & Oscar Pine, Oscar Pine & Arthur Watts, Oscar Pine & Salem, Ozpin & Oscar Pine, Ozpin & Salem (RWBY), Ruby Rose & Oscar Pine
Series: The Tales of Team OMEN (in anachronic order) [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1938709
Comments: 1
Kudos: 52





	i wish you could have told us sooner

**Author's Note:**

> like i said, this AU has been rotting in my head for like a year now and since the V8 trailer came out i just decided to like, write about it. So tah dah, here it is. Feel free to kill me in the comments.
> 
> I write + draw more about this on my tumblr: https://squipedmew.tumblr.com/

Cold.

  
  


Cold was how he felt most of the time nowadays. 

  
  


Nothing when he talks to people. Nothing when he’s out in the field, slicing through featureless people and staining his gloves redder than they already were. Nothing when he traces the scars on the back of his hand. 

There used to be a voice, he thinks, that resided in the back of his head, if he strains to remember through all the thick black fog in his mind. The voice had a name, too. 

  
  


He didn’t care to remember, though.

  
  


(He remembered hating the voice.)

  
  
  
  


* * *

There are other things, he supposes, that he doesn’t want to remember anyways, as he sits in the tree and waits for the signal for him to come down. People. Places. Names. They all escaped him, but he’s sort of glad for that. He remembers fighting. Punching, and being punched. Not being very well liked. 

But a voice sticks out to him clearly in his head. 

  
  
  


Warm. And small. 

  
  
  


_ “We don’t know.” _

  
  


It used to be comforting. 

  
  


_ Looking across the room as someone lies for you _

  
  


So why did it make him so…

_ “We… got in a train crash… and, he was gone when we woke up.” _

  
  


angry?

  
  
  
  


* * *

When he asked Her about it, she had smiled at him. Asked him how he felt. When he replied with a curt ‘fine’, She had laughed. She told him he was lying, but he really didn’t feel like he was. But, then again, She was never wrong about much. 

She had asked if he wanted to find the voice, whoever it belonged to.

  
  


When he had said yes, She had leaned in , closer then he would have liked. 

  
  


“Kill it.” She had said. “Anything that holds you down. You don’t need them anymore. Hold on to that anger.”

  
  


_ Hold on to that anger.  _

  
  


Of course he would. 

(It was all he had left.)

  
  
  
  


* * *

Black runs under his sleeves, sometimes, grimm leaking out when he gets angry. Green had given him the mask a few days weeks months years eons after he had been… drafted? Born? Simply became?

“If it makes you feel better.” Green had said, sounding happier than she should have been, being near him. “Plus, you’ll stop dripping onto the table during meetings.” 

  
  


She was told to “stop talking to it” (him?) by Ring (The golden and blue rings were the most he could make out about him besides the color of his hair) after that. He was some sort of project, apparently.

  
  


He had asked Her about it, about if he was a project.

She hadn’t answered. She never does.

  
  
  


* * *

“Hey.” He blinks through the fog in his own head, black pooling across his vision. “You here?” His earpiece was ringing - Gray, possibly? He couldn’t quite make out the voice through the static in his head. 

“Yes.” He responds, voice sounding crackly and hoarse even to himself. 

“Good. They’re in position.”

“This is gonna be so good,” He hears Green say back. “I’m so ready for payback after Haven.”

Haven.

  
  


Haven?

  
  
  


_ Who had he left there? _

“We forgot someone there.” He mumbles. The line goes silent. “It was… a professor?”

A pause.

“What the hell are you talking about?” Gray hisses.

“At Haven.” He repeats, more sure, vision becoming a bit clearer. 

“...Oh.” He hears whispering, as if he wasn’t on the comms. “Merc, I think he’s talking about Lionheart.”

“Oh, for real? Isn’t he dead?”

“Yeah.”

“Dead?” The word feels weird to say. He was so used to the word being applied to him - he had almost forgotten that it could be applied to anyone but him. 

“...Yeah.” Gray says. “And it’s not important.”

“Who killed him?”

Silence again. 

“...We did.” Green says after some time. 

  
  
  


He freezes.

  
  


No, that’s not right. Someone else did, right? She sounds unsure.

Or maybe it  _ was  _ him and he just didn’t know?

  
  


_ He didn’t know. _

_ He does̶̘̭͙͒n̵̡̏͑́̇͠’̶̝̀̑̕t̵̲͛̿̈̂ ̶̦̟͂͒̒͊r̷̻̞̳̗̀̂e̴͍̾͘m̶͕͙̞̋̒̍̓e̷͙͓̺̗̎͊̃m̴̯̥̮̔̕b̵͈̹͍̑ȇ̵̻̭̠̯͖̉̄͝ŗ̸̢̮͉̞̄̈́̈́́͝-̷͓̠̹̞̫͝- _

  
  


“-ar!” he hears yelling, and the black clears to hear people yelling at him. “Get back in position! They’re gonna be here soon!”

“Ah - right!” He had almost tipped over, falling out of the tree. He sat up, familiar coldness overtaking him. 

  
  


**̶̢̣̓Ḻ̶̗̒i̶͖͖͌̃o̴̥̬͂̊ṉ̵̄h̵̫̞̀ḛ̸̢͋̓a̴͙̽r̴̻̫t̶͓̲̉.̵̬̎ ̵̫̆͠**

**̶̩͠**

**̴̤̾̊**

**̴̰̉̏**

_...Who WERE these people? _

  
  


He took off his mask, feeling ooze run down his face as he pants for breath. None of this made any sense, but memories were flooding into his head that weren’t his, and that weren’t his and that weren’t -

  
  
  
  
  
  


_ “Who am I?” He had asked Her, laying on the floor of his cell.  _

  
  


_ She had smiled, blood on her face.  _

  
  


_ “You’re  _ _ mine _ _.” _

  
  
  
  
  
  


It didn’t matter. 

I̶t̷ ̸d̷i̵d̸n̵’̴t̷ ̷m̶a̴t̴t̸e̸r̶.̵ ̶

Î̵̖ṫ̶̛̝̑ ̴̟d̴̝̣͎͖͆̇͑̔i̸̻̇͌̅̓d̸̩̘̼̮̉n̸͖̉̐̃͒’̸̦̦̮̗͛̋t̸̨͙̬̯̅͑ ̵̬̼̌̔͆̄m̸͉̈́ȁ̵͙t̵̫̖͂̎͐͠t̵̫̳͇́̌̆e̷̜͌̓́ŗ̵̳̙͗̆̐͠.̵̪̖̘̙̒̉ ̴̲̯

̶̮̗̅̎͠

  
  


_ He  _ didn’t matter. 

  
  
  
  


He had a mission to complete, feeling himself working in autopilot against whoever he was fighting in the forest, everyone blurry silhouettes against his vision -

  
  
  


A flash of red caught his eye. 

  
  


* * *

_ ̵“̵I̸’̴m̷ ̵j̴u̷s̶t̴ ̴g̷o̵i̴n̵g̶ ̷t̸o̷ ̶b̶e̵ ̵a̶n̷o̵t̷h̸e̶r̸ ̶o̴n̷e̶ ̸o̷f̵ ̵h̷i̷s̷ ̴l̴i̴v̸e̷s̷,̸ ̵a̶r̶e̶n̴’̸t̵ ̶I̵?̴”̷ _

  
  


  
  


* * *

He doesn’t remember anything after that. The next time his vision cleared, static quieting to a dull roar, he was back in the ship, sitting next to Green and Gray, the Scorpion across from him. He doesn’t move, still, because he’s worried that if he does, he’ll forget the memory of her smile. Whose smile? He doesn’t know. 

“...You alive?” Gray asks. He doesn’t move, still, feeling something that isn’t the black tar of grimm run down his face for once. Something decidedly more… human. 

  
  


(It’s nice. But it hurts.)

  
  


“Excuse me.” He stands, not looking at anyone’s silhouette. “I need to use the restroom.”

  
  
  
  
  


The ship’s restroom is quiet. 

  
  


Peaceful. 

  
  


When he takes his mask off, black gushes into the sink, having been trapped behind his mask, apparently. It drips down onto his shows, hands, staining his red gloves, which he peels off and discards, along with his coat. Without it, he just stares at his bare arms, black veins running all across them. Gray hair in his face.

  
  


(he looks so much like Her)

  
  
  
  
  


Oscar Pine doesn’t try to stop the tears this time. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Discord: https://discord.gg/7fGKDJ2
> 
> youtube: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UC1PtaW8dTzCzlDfb76VRU9Q


End file.
